


The Soiree

by DebbieF



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen, Sequel to Eavesdropping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2014-09-14
Packaged: 2018-02-17 10:07:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2305856
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebbieF/pseuds/DebbieF
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TinkerBella asked for this one.<br/>I had to research 16th century dances to get the moves correctly.<br/>Hope you like.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Soiree

D’Artagnan thought he’d choke from all the lace about his neck. He felt like the worst sort of dandy in his get up. Glancing over at his three brothers who were conversing with Captain Treville, he wished to join them instead of this infernal dancing he was constantly being tortured with.

Originally the three inseparables weren’t invited until Queen Anne reminded her king that his best Musketeers should join d’Artagnan’s side. The only thing setting them apart from the youngster was that they all wore their uniforms.

If being in favor with Louis and Anne, for that’s how he thought of them now as good friends, meant dressing up like this for special events, d’Artagnan wondered if the captain could arrange to have him sent out on missions whenever the whim hit their Majesties they wanted his company for such things.

If Porthos kept grinning at him in that manner d’Artagnan was of two minds to go over and punch his huge friend in the gut. And while at it knock the smirk off Aramis’s face as well. The only one out of his group of friends not finding amusement at his expense was Athos who simply nodded his head in encouragement toward him.

Suffering through the Allemande, d’Artagnan stood in a line with other couples. His partner was a woman old enough to be his grandmother but she had a kind smile, merriment shone in her eyes and she was very light on her feet. 

They had their paired hands extended forward as they paraded back and forth the length of the room. He was supposed to walk three steps and then balance on one foot except he ended up doing four steps and tripped which earned him a scowl from Louis and a frown from Anne. 

After all their diligent training he felt badly for looking like an oaf. Fortunately d’Artagnan’s partner, Lady Annette, took pity on him. When she noticed the direction his gaze took after making his mistake, Lady Annette whispered and sent the boy a quick wink. “It was my fault, young man.” She placed a finger on d’Artagnan’s lips when he was going to argue the point.

When the dance stopped d’Artagnan and Lady Annette were approached by their Majesties. “This youngster has the patience of a saint,” Lady Annette laughed brightly. “I lost count of my steps which threw poor d’Artagnan off and then I stumbled making him trip.”

The look of relief on the Louis and Anne’s faces lifted d’Artagnan’s spirits. He took Lady Anne’s hand in his and gently kissed it. “My thanks, Madame.”

“Go on with you, d’Artagnan,” Lady Annette pushed him away from her. “I’m sure there are more women here in your age group that are dying to dance with you.” She laughed again as a blush rose high on the boy’s cheeks as well as a pained expression which Lady Annette understood quite well.

“Are we having fun yet?” Aramis joyfully teased as he came up to d’Artagnan and wrapped an arm around the youngster’s shoulder.

Slapping the offending appendage away, d’Artagnan hissed. “Why aren’t you out there having *fun* instead of laughing at me?”

“Touchy tonight aren’t you, pup?” Aramis grinned.

“Leave him alone, Aramis.” Athos made his point with an arch of his elegant brow.

“You’re doing good, lad,” Porthos said. “Ignore Aramis over here. He’s right jealous.”

“D’Artagnan,” Captain Treville walked up to his youngest Musketeer. “I see the lessons paid off.”

“Oh I don’t know about that, sir. Lady Annette saved me from complete disgrace with Louis and Anne by covering up my blunder,” d’Artagnan freely admitted.

“Yes, I saw your stumble earlier, but you quickly recovered.” Treville nodded his head in sympathy for the boy’s plight. What worried him was how freely d’Artagnan used their Majesties first names. He wasn’t of the nobility where the boy could get away with it without reprimand.

Seeing an odd look cross Captain Treville’s face, d’Artagnan wondered what he had said that caused the older man to look at him so. Then it hit him and he quickly explained. “Sir, they told me to call them that whenever I am in their company. Every time I forget and use their title they cuff me on the back of the head,” d’Artagnan shrugged as if to say *what was he supposed to do*. “So, that’s how I think of them.”

“Ah! Well, just so long as you don’t talk like that outside of the palace,” Treville grabbed an appetizer off a tray that was offered to him. "Cuff you on the back of your head, do they?" he gave a bark of laughter at that.

"Probably saw Porthos doing it to the boy one day and figured they could do it as well," Athos offered.

“I really hate all this!” d’Artagnan moaned. “Give me a sword and I can wield it with the best of them.” He ran a hand down the back of his neck in frustration. “Or at least a good old fashioned village dance where I *do* know all the steps.”

“I think your being too hard on yourself, lad. Anyway I see King Louis over there trying to gain your attention,” Treville gave d’Artagnan a gentle push in the right direction.

“D’Artagnan,” Louis beamed at him. “Lady Aimee would like you to lead her in the basse danse next.”

“Yes, sire," which earned him a dark look from the king. "I mean, Louis," he corrected quickly. D’Artagnan gave in with dignity and held out his hand for the young woman to take. He didn’t mind this one as they moved quietly and hopefully without mishap in a slow gliding motion around the room. D’Artagnan noticed that Lady Aimee was frowning though. “May I inquire as to what is so troubling to you?”

Her lips formed a perfect moue. “I’d rather be dancing this to livelier music.”

“May I be honest with you.”

“Certainly, Monsieur.”

“If this were any livelier I’d be flat on my face,” d’Artagnan laughed and Lady Aimee joined in as well.

She thought he was just jesting, but when the other couples started into a different basse danse step Lady Anne realized what d’Artagnan had meant by his remark.

They were supposed to take two steps, first left and then right, but when d’Artagnan went left he managed to nearly knock down Count Benoit along with his partner. When d’Artagnan corrected his mistake after apologizing profusely to the count he was to move to the right... bad mistake. D’Artagnan didn’t see Rochefort and collided into his back nearly causing a domino effect but the comte was able to stop himself in time before bumping into the next person. D’Artagnan finally gave up and apologized not only to Rochefort and his partner but to Lady Aimee too.

Walking off the floor d’Artagnan went over to where Louis and Anne sat. “I am a dismal failure despite your hours of tutelage.”

“Greatness takes time. It is the same as when you trained to become a Musketeer. Remember how well you defended your captain against LaBarge?” Louis reminded him. “Anne, why don’t you partner d’Artagnan this time?”

“Honestly, don’t you covet your feet? You may not walk properly for weeks after I dance with you, Anne.” D’Artagnan wished the floor would open up and swallow him whole.

“We shall grace the ballroom, Louis.” Anne gave her husband and d’Artagnan her loveliest smile as she gave herself up to the music with their youngest Musketeer and now dearest friend.

It was true that having a partner who dances well not only improves your own skill set but makes it seem as if you know what you are doing. That’s how it was for d’Artagnan with Anne in his arms as they performed the Galliard. This was one dance Louis and Anne had drilled into him since it combined patterns of five steps.

“Remember, d’Artagnan, the basic step is cinq pas. Right, left, right, left, and cadence,” Anne winked at him making sure he felt her confidence in him.

“You make this seem so simple,” d’Artagnan sighed as he concentrated on the complicated moves. They leaped, jumped, and hopped around the ballroom floor and to his surprise without mishap.

“Because it is,” Anne tapped him teasingly on the chin. Happy that d’Artagnan was now moving with ease across the dance floor.

Off to the side, Athos watched with pride as d’Artagnan proved to everyone present that he could indeed maneuver the ballroom without disaster following in his wake. “He is performing the Lavolta now.”

“The what?” Porthos scratched his chin in confusion.

“See how close d’Artagnan’s holding the queen now?” Athos noted their youngest didn’t appear as nervous when dancing with her Majesty.

“Yeah, it’s a wonder the king doesn’t ask for d’Artagnan’s head.”

“It’s part of the dance, Porthos,” Athos explained.

“If you say so,” Porthos grunted while Aramis looked ready to run over and pull them apart.

“Down boy,” Athos hissed at Aramis. “Jealousy could lead to you and perhaps I losing our heads. Which I am very attached too I might add,” Athos frowned. "Now where was I? Oh yes. You see, Porthos, d'Artagnan now has to lift her into the air as they turn around. That's why he had to hold her so close."

"D'Artagnan seems to excel at that particular dance," Treville mentioned as he too watched the boy with the queen.

The dance finished and d'Artagnan left Anne with Louis and walked over to his friends. "Aramis, I quite forgot but one of my previous partners wondered if you'd be so kind as to partner her for one of the dances."

Preening, Aramis forgot his earlier bout with the green eyed monster and figured it was the pretty Lady Aimee who wanted his company. "But of course, my friend. Where is she?"

Producing Lady Annette to Aramis, d'Artagnan hid his own smile as his friend’s grin slipped slightly as the romantic Musketeer gazed at the grandmotherly, plump woman. Watching the two grace the dance floor, d'Artagnan finally chuckled out loud.

Feeling two hands on his shoulders, d'Artagnan found Porthos on his left and Athos on his right.

"Bet that felt good," Porthos rough whisper tickled the youngster's ear.

"You've no idea," d'Artagnan smirked.

"You've acquitted yourself quite well, pup," Athos smiled kindly into d'Artagnan's eyes. "If I ever get invited to a soiree as the Comte de la Fere, you are coming with me," he tapped the child on the chest.

"Don't do me any favors," d'Artagnan returned sourly. Which made Porthos, Athos and Treville laugh heartily. "Oh Mon dieu! Here comes Louis and Anne," d'Artagnan mumbled.

"D'Artagnan!" Louis cried and threw a companionable arm across d'Artagnan's shoulder. "All the ladies are a twitter over you and singing your praises to the skies after your dance with my beloved Anne."

"I told you, d'Artagnan, to have more faith in yourself," Anne's eyes sparkled with pride.

Addressing all the men present, King Louis told them of future plans. "By the way, we're scheduling another soiree for next month." Barely had those words left his mouth when King Louis realized d'Artagnan wasn't with them any longer. "I say, where did d'Artagnan take off to?" He turned around in a complete circle, still no sign of his favorite. Puzzled at how fast d'Artagnan disappeared he studied the innocent features of Athos, Porthos and Treville. "Did any of you see where the boy went?"

"Non!" the three men replied in unison, earning a disappointed frown from their king.

Queen Anne took her husband by the arm hoping to gain his attention away from d’Artagnan’s whereabouts. She definitely saw the young man slip out of the ballroom as soon as her husband talked about another soiree. Queen Anne will let d’Artagnan get away with it this once. In the meantime, since there were a few visiting dignitaries floating about somewhere she could distract Louis with them.

"Where did the boy go?" Porthos didn't see the child anywhere.

"I'd say he's back at the barracks by now," Athos exchanged a grin with his captain.

"Think I'll join em'. This just isn't my style," Porthos waved goodbye to the men and left. But he made sure to grab some food and drink on his way out the door.

"Well, Athos, are you staying?" Treville took a sip of his wine.

"I've had enough entertainment for tonight. I think d'Artagnan may be in dire need of help getting out of his finery."

Treville nearly spit out his drink as he watched his lieutenant saunter away with a whistle.

The End


End file.
